Over her dance partner's shoulder, she saw Big Mike leave with the Pam Grier look-alike on his arm. Rider had long been gone, and Dan was still rapping, trying to get some action. JL had two gorgeous women enthralled - dang! Jose was so smooth she hadn't even seen the brother leave. When she glanced back at the table, it was empty. Guess Marlene took her advice? But when she saw a shy, blond college-looking chick giggle and stand up with Dan, all she could do was shake her head and keep moving.
The brother she was dancing with was now in her ear, telling her something in a language she could barely understand. Since the lobby incident, the ability to translate had faded. Go figure. But one didn't need to be fluent to pick up the message, nor did a woman need to be psychic.
"Como se chama, por favor me de?"
Feeling the full effects of the drink now, she began to relax. Damn his voice was smooth as silk. She laughed. Then she opened her mind to be able to communicate, knowing the effect that might have on the man who'd left her hanging. "My name is Damali... but, uh, you need to back up."
"Por que, hoj a noite?" he murmured.
"Why tonight? Because."
He touched her face and made a little clicking sound with his tongue as he dipped his thigh deeper between hers. "You have a man?"
The fact that he just switched up to English so she could better understand what he was saying, tickled her. Oh, so now that you're getting to the fundamental question, homeboy, you want to be sure I'm clear, huh? She laughed again. But the fact that she couldn't readily answer his question quelled her amusement. "Yes. I do."
"Nao lhe entendo, onde e - "
"He's not here, but I do have someone who cares."
"Meu nome e, Javier."
It was evident from the broad smile on his face that he wasn't the least bit fazed by her protest. In fact, it seemed to be driving him to a challenge. She needed to extricate herself from this guy, and the song felt like it would never end. His confidence was working on her, reminding her too much of the man who'd abandoned her in the States. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Javier. But you are going to have to back up off me a little."
"Your man should be here to protect his territory, then," he said grinning. "I would never allow such a flower from my garden to be picked simply because I wasn't tending her garden."
All right, that did it. Damali backed up a pace and shot the man a glare. Her plan was perhaps a bad one. True, Marlene had said pull out all the stops, but, dang, she'd never done this thing before and Marlene was long gone. Where was good guardian advice when a sister needed it?
He smiled with understanding, chuckled, and twirled her around. Were all the men from south of the border like this, she wondered?
Hell, guys she'd met in the Northeast and out West talked as much smack, too. "Muito obrigado," she told him, thanking him for the dance as she bee-bopped away from him to another waiting partner. Damn, where was Carlos's ass when she needed him?
Carlos sat up in the pitch-blackness of the abandoned Beverly Hills lair. It was still daytime, but darkness couldn't get there fast enough! Another man? Oh, hell no...
But he steadied himself and tried to ease back down to rest for five more hours until darkness descended over the city. The old Dominican don's lair was a much better alternative to the safe house cabin, and he'd needed time to pull himself together and think. The spoils of war were his. He'd beaten Nuit and could go anyplace Nuit's generals had fallen. It was the law of the jungle. As above, so below. The rules of the vampire world applied, and as the primary topside master vamp, he gladly sought temporary refuge in its luxuries. He was just relieved that the lower-level males had scooped up his harem and put it on lock since the race. That complexity he didn't need right now梐 bunch of females sweatin' him. He'd even gotten a bit of a handle on the strong female vamp sending lure from overseas. Until he made his decision, nobody was rushing him to do shit.
Besides, he'd needed to fill himself with the remainder of the privately stocked bottles of blood that had more of a kick than the monk donations, but the main thing was, nobody was stressing him here梕xcept Damali.
For the past two weeks he had been kicking down lair doors all over his region, sending a message, ripping out hearts... Miami had been no joke. Fucking New York had almost made him drop a body to feed. Sons-of-bitches in Canada had been neglected so long that they thought they ran the joint. Only saving thing was they had good wild game up there! And down in the Caribbean he'd almost gotten sidetracked... the babes in St. Lucia had almost made him weep after tearing out an opponent's throat. It had barely kept his mind off Damali. And it hadn't been easy.
Initially, her intermittent calls had practically worn a hole in his brain. And though she didn't call him directly today, she'd sent her urgent concern as a vibe that he couldn't ignore. It was like having somebody blow up his cell phone with a hundred 911 calls. But why had she stopped calling after she got into a club filled with human males?
Then the ache that she produced, her desire for what they both wanted so badly from each other, had made him need nearly a gallon of blood to chill him out. Guilt temporarily swept through him, but he let it go. The only reason he'd jetted on the monks after talking to Father Pat was because those old dudes were in danger while he was like this. All jacked up, confused, pissed off, way too hungry, and needing that damnable woman in his arms.
He had to get out of there, especially with her gone, before something unnecessary jumped off in the cabin. He'd tried to detox while she was still in the States. Was trying to come down nice and slow before she left, so the days she'd be gone wouldn't make him snap. But with her so close, and the four monks so near, and some strong lure messing with his mind, he'd almost lost it the second night. No doubt, he had to get out of there. They were innocents, and he wasn't. Yeah, he'd needed to focus on his territory and get his head right.
Carlos brought his hands up to his temples and shut his eyes tightly. His brain felt like it was on fire. He had a skull-splitting headache from the interrupted regeneration. Why couldn't Damali just accept that he needed some space? She wasn't in any immediate danger. He knew his limitations. Shit!
His eyes suddenly opened and narrowed. He could smell the bastard, and had felt the tremor run through her. The inside of his thigh had touched the inside of the thigh that had only been supposed to open for him! Sweat. Another man's sweat on her? He could literally taste it in the back of his throat. The awareness lowered his incisors. And hombre was talking shit in her ear, too, now? Oh yeah, he was going to Brazil!
"I said, take me to the Vampire Council, and stop on level four and five on the way down! You deaf, or something?" Carlos paced back and forth in the woods as the messenger peered at him but didn't move.
"Master Rivera, while I would be glad to take you down to the council's esteemed chambers, I am sure you are aware of the imminent danger of a border breach with the demon realms at this time. Chaos is rampant, and - "
"You want to lose your - "
"No need for threats," the entity hissed. "But as you recall, when you were first made, and I collected you, and on your return to the surface, I have already escorted you on a brief tour of the realms."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Carlos muttered, still pacing.